Please forgive me

Hello there, looks like were here again, playing the same instrument, with the same breathe.... Awkward if you think about it considering I have not talked to you in a couple years. I know I wrote the last poem in complete hate, disgust, and well to be honest I really just don't enjoy your existence on the dirt we share. I don't share well with the selfish. But I kind of have some empathy for you. I feel for the unfortunate disposition placed upon your life. Your parents ****** more than a shop vac that was built to **** down unholy spirits. This could be something to learn from because we can't call the ghost busters every time the air gets *****. I want to clear the air between us. What I wanted to tell say to the man who donated ***** to my mother, hung around a few years to long and stained the life of a new white tee shirt, is thank you. Thank you for my showing up to any of my sports events, I know you would have enjoyed them too much. Thank you for never staying in my life more than a year, my eyes can only handle looking at your deflated life for so long. I really want to thank you for leaving when I was 3 years old, not for leaving me and my brother alone, we always had her, thank you sir for dropping my mother like a faulty Walkman with no batteries, she is an iPod with an unparalleled playlist that you never got to hear. Thank you for not listening to the way she loved my brother and I, she spoke soliloquies with a harp in her throat, piano keys for teeth and a heart made out of everything she picked up after you left. So thank you for not being selfish and letting us have her all to ourselves. I'm sorry I have hated you for so long, it just took a while for my eyes to adjust in the dark, then I realized I was in the shade. Thank you for your genes. I can drink like a fish, I'm balding at twenty two, and my second toe is longer than my big toe. Now I'm not complaining one bit, because those are the same genes that gave me this heart that wakes up and feels everyday the earth rotates, the ability to smile from ear to ear painting a canvas full of alright teeth, and last but not least you gave me the genes to forgive you. So thank you Jack Binschus, in my eyes, you are not that bad of a guy. yes, maybe you are selfish, addicted to any substance that will wet your beak, and have tunnel vision in a broken mirror showing nothing but images of you. I will never call you father, or dad, or tell you I love you, but I will tell you that the pallet in my chest that has painted pictures of hate against your everything is clean. I'm over you. We can move on, you can now live in peace not ever knowing that I forgive you.

The frozen heart of the maiden
As the burning flame is smothered
And trampled upon, by her lover
Every tear drop that falls on her *****
Quietly drains out the love, she once had
As her heaven within, turns to quietude
There is no music playing from the flute
Only solitude has cast a spell of gloom
Clouding her heart from the sunshine
Leaving her with nothing, but pall of gloom
She can’t feel any love in her frozen heart, again*




© Amitav (Radiance)

The boundaries in the mind
Is impenetrable by the Light
Of consciousness,
Concealing the obdurate ideas
Within the confines of the walls
Held captive, and mired in obscurity
Leaving the mind in desolation*




© Amitav (Radiance)

Where-
and the place
too familiar,

passageways,
dark, the bed
at the end

of the ward,
and you,
you there,

at the side,
bent over,
Stoic until the end.

Where in the realm of things
does sense
come of this?

I, how to see
sense in this?
The unfolding drama,

the end game,
the drawn out decider.
You-

how soon would
it have come,
my son?

Did you?
And how much?
Was it your hand

on my shoulder
months later
at the Carthusian mass?

The long passage way,
drawn out in dreams
to the same conclusion,

the same end:
What will be the comfort;
who will mend?

Two broken
Eggs on the floor.

Flour and milk on
The bench.

Sinks both full of
Dishes and knives,

Pots and stirrers and
Ladles. The bin

Has long since given
Up on containing.

Bacon in air.
Me on sofa.

What on Earth
Happened here?

She's home. *I got
Hungry.

I fake a smile and carry on with my day
No one questions me not even a bit
No one asks me if I'm alright because
They assume my smile says it all
But when they ask I say 'I'm fine' and
Move on with my day
I'm always relieved there are no follow up questions
But there are times I wish there were
There are times I wish someone cared enough
To know the real me
Not the happy girl everyone sees
No more like **the broken girl I really am

They fall like heavy rain to the street below,
impacting the lives randomly as do they stop,
tore to pieces, lumps, a stain on the now
crumbling wall, They were just drinking tea,
then the rain fell and they were no more.
The drops fell everyday, rickety shelters in a
garden false hope, but what hope was there
when the noise of incoming clouds could be
seen and heard so dark as they floated by,
then the rain when it fell, rubble now where
lives where lived, as what was inside now
strewn about.

The heavy rain did fall, where it fell fire
breathed and destruction was the music
of the day, a symphony of of mayhem on
a grand scale. Streets run red and black
lives were lost to the rain randomly each
day, you lived each day as if it was your
last for when the rain fell it took you in
a moment or you wished it took you in
the blast.

As injuries from torn skin bones smashed,
would you survive luck was the friend, and
death took many away for when the rain
dropped and the buildings burnt with those
like wicks burned alive. It was a terrible time
and may be again never forget those that
pasted and for those that lived on ...

1 eyes meet
2 a smile
3 bubbly conversation
4 hang out for a while
5 no sleeping we're on the phone
6 just when things seem great..no reply
7 suddenly feel alone
8 cry
9 move on with time
10 another pair meet mine